


The Lengths You'll Go To To Get Some Damn Cranberry Sauce: A MaineWash AU Turkey Day Fic

by luigifan11



Series: A MaineWash EtaIota AU [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: #ruthvsbettymonthly, I'm just having fun writing in between chapters, M/M, Mild Language, Pretty much any of the characters are going to be at least mentioned if they don't actually show up, Thanksgiving, Wash wants some goddamn cranberry sauce, carwash siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-13 01:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21485962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luigifan11/pseuds/luigifan11
Summary: None of the Freelancers really keep track of Earth days to really think about holidays outside of their own birthday.None, however... except for one Agent Washington, who's gonna make the best Thanksgiving feast this side of the galaxy, if he could just get some daMN CRANBERRY SAUCE GOD DA-~~Done for #ruthvsbettymonthly over on the Ruth vs Betty Discord server.
Relationships: Agent Carolina & Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue), The Meta | Agent Maine/Agent Washington
Series: A MaineWash EtaIota AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548559
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	The Lengths You'll Go To To Get Some Damn Cranberry Sauce: A MaineWash AU Turkey Day Fic

It was the first November... something... on the Mother of Invention, the artificial day cycle only went from day to night so afternoons didn’t really exist in space, and all of the Freelancers didn't really know it. Except of course, for one Agent Washington, who kept a calendar (a novelty kitten one, obviously) filled with up to date info on every Freelancer's birthday, anniversaries, and holidays, with F.I.L.L.S. as a backup, just in case he couldn't get another calendar with January's resupply shipment. Wash noticed it was indeed the beginning of November, which meant it was almost Thanksgiving.

He was currently in the mess hall with everyone, eating lunch. After he finished his sandwich, he posed a question to everyone. “Hey, Thanksgiving’s in a couple weeks. What does everyone do? Do we just get shore leave or do we have a feast here on the MoI?” Everyone looked at him like he grew a second head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Wash,” York was the first to speak up, “but we don’t really celebrate holidays here.” North spoke next. “There hasn’t really been a good time to celebrate what with all of the training and missions we do. Heck, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone celebrate a birthday in all my time here.” Carolina patted Wash’s shoulder as she passed. “Don’t worry about it too much. There’s not much we can do anyways.” Wash simply nodded and dropped the subject, the conversation drifting elsewhere.

Later that night, he was talking about it while lying in bed with Maine. “Can you believe it, Matty? No holidays. That’s crazy! Back in my old squadron, we’d at least do an office party if we couldn’t get leave.” Maine ran a hand through Wash’s hair as he ranted, his voice a deep rumble when he finally spoke up. “David, relax.” Wash let out a sigh. “I know, I know… But, not even a special lunch?” Maine shrugged, a grunt. ‘Too much work.’

That got the gears in Wash’s head turning, lifting his head to look at Maine. “If it’s too much work for anyone else… Maybe I can do it. If I did a feast in time for Thanksgiving, do you think everyone would come?” Maine simply smiled, planting a small peck on Wash’s forehead. “I’d come.” That gave Wash the determination he needed. He had a couple weeks to do it, but he was gonna make the best damn feast anyone on the MoI had ever seen before.

* * *

The next day, Wash began his mission with talking with his sister, Carolina. He entered her room after she had finished her daily training routine, knocking first. (He remembered the last time someone entered without knocking.) After he got the okay to come in, he found Carolina outside her armor doing pushups. He took a seat on the floor in front of her. “Hey, can I ask you something?” Carolina finished her cooldown, sitting opposite to him. “What is it?”

Did Mom have a recipe book or something like that she told you about before she…” Both of their faces were downtrodden as the unspoken settled in the room. Carolina got up and walked over to her closet, pulling out a cardboard box filled with various items. Sifting around, she pulled out a book and handed it to Wash. “Everything she ever made us is all here. Thanksgiving recipes start at page twenty-five.” Wash must’ve had a surprised look on his face, because she followed up with “I figured you’d get it in your head to do something like this. Least I can do as your sister is support you like this. See you at the table, David.” Wash smiled as he took the book from her. “Thanks, Alyssa.”

* * *

“You know it isn’t regular requisition time, Wash.” 479er looked at Wash as he was begging her with a sheet of paper in his hand. “Look, I’ll do anything you ask, can you *please* get everything on this list for me?” She narrowed her eyes as she looked over the list: turkey, potatoes, gravy mix, cranberry sauce? “You plannin’ a Thanksgiving dinner?” Wash nodded.

“…Give me a spot at the table and no complaining about my flying for a year and you got yourself a deal.”

* * *

“What do you *mean* they didn’t have cranberry sauce?! It’s **cranberry sauce**!” York and North were walking back from the training room when they heard Wash yelling from the hanger. They peeked in to see him gesturing exasperatedly in a conversation with 479er. “Hey, what’d you expect? It’s that time of year, everyone wants it. I at least got you cranberries, so be thankful. ‘‘Tis the season’ and all that.”

Wash was pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair. “Okay. Okay. I can work with that. I can make it from scratch. …Hopefully. Was this in the recipe book? Urrgh!”

York and North exchanged a look. If the rookie had himself worked up this much, the least they could do was attend what he was planning.

* * *

“Hey, South. Could you do me a favor?” South turned around to see Wash holding a bowl filled with… cranberries. “I’m not feeding you those.” Wash shook his head. “No, I need you do something for me. I need you to murder these cranberries.” She raised an eyebrow at that. “Sorry, what?” “These cranberries poisoned my water supply, soiled my crops, and brought a plague unto my house. They must die for their transgressions, but I have other things to get ready, so I need someone to mutilate these cranberries. I figured you’d want to do the fun part.”

South was concerned about the way he talked about these cranberries like they personally did do everything he claimed, but hey, if what North told her about what he and York saw was true, it was the least she could do. “Sure, why not, rookie. If I think about it the right way, it’s kinda like a more visceral stress ball.”

* * *

“‘Twas the night before Thanksgiving, when all through the Mother of Invention, not a creature was stirring, save one, with good intention.” Wash muttered to himself as he got about collecting all the ingredients, he had to trade favors with the kitchen staff to stash it there and prevent anyone from touching it. This was going to be a large feast. Thankfully, he had all night to do this. “The ingredients were gathered, the recipes well memorized. In hopes of cooking a feast well grand-sized.” Everything was going well, the potatoes were mashed, the gravy was simmering, the turkey was basted, and, along with the stuffing, was cooking. With the entrée cooking and all the sides done, all that was left was the dreaded one. Wash turned to the cranberry mush; disdain made his face askew. “Remember,” Wash calmed himself, “You’re doing this for Matthew.” The cranberry sauce was made, posthaste so it would chill in time. As that was done, Wash set the chairs in lines. One for Carolina, for York, North and South get two. For Connie, Florida, and Wyoming, too. He couldn’t forget his deals either, as he sat down a couple more, one for 479er and to those who worked on the kitchen floor.

But the last chairs he’d set, most importantly, the best seats at the table, for Matty and him, naturally. With the chairs all done, and the food cooked, came setting the table, and oh, how good it looked. Wash was running on fumes, feeling exhaustion creepage. But the last thing to do, send out the message.

* * *

Maine woke to a message by Wash, a mass e-mail by the looks of it. It told all the recipients to be in the mess hall when the day started. Maine decided to show up early, see how it looked before everyone else got up and tore into it. He showered up, got dressed in his civvies, and made his way to the mess hall.

What awaited him was Carolina beating him there, using three chairs for Wash to sleep, his head resting on her lap. When she noticed him, she gestured to Wash using her head. “You think you can take over? My legs are starting to fall asleep.” Maine chuckled, nodding. He took Carolina’s spot, careful to not jostle Wash too much and wake him up. He deserved to rest for all the trouble he’d been through. With Wash resting in Maine’s lap, it didn’t take long for the rest of the invited to file in.

When Wash finally woke up, he saw everyone at the table, chatting with each other. A picturesque Thanksgiving dinner. However, no one had even touched the food yet, the layout exactly as Wash had left it before he took a nap (read: passed the fuck out). Connie was the first to notice he was awake. “Hey, everyone, Wash is finally up.” The table slowly quieted down as they all turned to him. Wash sat up as fast as he could, wishing he had at least his helmet so he could hide his embarrassment at being seen passed out in the mess hall.

When the chairs Wash was sleeping on were put back and Carolina, Maine, and Wash sat at the table, North was first to speak up. “Now that everyone’s at the table, I guess I’ll start with what I’m thankful for and we’ll go down the line. I’m thankful for Wash making this feast for us and my sister.” “No fair!” York shouted. “You stole mine! The Wash thing, not the sister thing.” “That one’s mine, too, by the way.” South had a smirk on her face. “Twin rules. I don’t make them.” “Bullshit, you make them all the time!”

At that, the table became an uproar, multiple arguments going on at once. It was hard to keep track of who was saying what. Wash turned to Maine during all the commotion and asked “What are you thankful for, Matty?” Maine turned to Wash, leaning down so only Wash could hear him. “You.” Wash leaned the rest of the way and the two kissed. “You, too.” The rest of the feast went without a hitch, everyone made sure to thank Wash for it by helping clean up and promised to help out with a potential Christmas celebration.

Though, that was for another time. For now, Wash just enjoyed the time he spent with everyone, and the extra snuggle time with Maine in the showers before their drills.


End file.
